


'Twas a Victuuri Christmas

by hawthornn



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Christmas, Holiday, Image-Inspired, M/M, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 11:29:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9069541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawthornn/pseuds/hawthornn
Summary: Yuuri can't think of a present for Viktor, so Phichit decides to help him out.Thanks to memypie.tumblr.com for the image and the inspiration for this oneshot!





	

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the onsen, Yuuri Katsuki tossed things over his shoulder as he tried desperately to find a gift suitable for his coach.  
At least, that’s what he was supposed to think of his idol. Everything had become a blurry haze of emotions recently, ever since that fated day when Viktor had shown up completely naked in his hot spring and declared that he would coach Yuuri.  
As a small child, Yuuri had always admired Viktor’s determination and pure talent. He had copied his programs, learned from his skating style, and drooled at the shiny gold medals that were so often hung around the man’s neck.  
It had been about the sport, not the person.  
But as he got older, and more talented skaters rose to the podium, Yuuri still couldn’t take his eyes off of the Russian. Often, he’d find himself staring at videos of Viktor; at his long silvery hair whipping around in its ponytail as he performed a perfectly executed biellmann, at his muscles contracting when he took off into a jump. It wasn’t until he turned fourteen that he admitted to himself that maybe he wasn’t as obsessed with Viktor’s skating as he was with Viktor himself.  
Then, he wanted to meet Viktor not as a fan, but as an equal. He wanted to get to know him and become something, instead of just being a face that blended into the crowd. Yuuri had trained and after hundreds of falls, buckets of sweat, and plenty of humiliation, he was at the Grand Prix. Against Viktor. And he lost. Viktor still thought of him as just another skater.  
But then Viktor had seen the video that had mistakenly been posted of Yuuri skating his program, and he’d visited Yuuri, announcing — no, insisting — that he was going to coach him.  
Suddenly, Yuuri’s childhood dreams were coming true faster than he would keep up with. Before he knew it, Viktor Nikiforov was living in the same house as him, spending every moment with him, even sleeping in the same bed as him. It was too much for him to comprehend.  
So now here Yuuri was, completely and utterly unprepared for what was both Christmas and his coach’s birthday. It was already eight o’clock at night, and he still didn’t know what to do.  
What are you supposed to get someone who has given you everything? He wondered, throwing a pair of glow-in-the-dark skate guards behind him. He had looked through his closet, which was filled with his skating necessities, only to discover that he had accumulated about twenty pairs of hard and soft guards, seven spinner boards, and a whole lot of squished, half-used tissue boxes.  
Finally giving up, Yuuri fell against the doorway of his room with a sigh, drawing his knees up to his chest and ready to fall asleep from exhaustion. He was just about to, too, when someone cleared their throat loudly.  
“Having trouble finding something for your man, Yuuri-kun?” It was Phichit, grinning down at him.  
“He’s not my man, Phichit-kun.” He pulled himself off of the ground disgruntledly, making Phichit’s smile grow.  
“And that bothers you so much,” he sang teasingly. Yuuri turned red.  
“Will you just help me?!”  
“Okay!”  
Yuuri knew it was probably a bad idea, but what else was he going to do? So despite what his brain was telling him, he allowed Phichit to blindfold him and plan whatever he was doing.

* * *

  
Yuuri felt himself being shoved forward, and then the blindfold was swiped off of him. He blinked at the sudden light before his eyes adjusted and he saw that he was in Viktor’s room. The man in question sat on his bed, polishing his skates. When he heard Yuuri come in, his eyebrows raised in surprise.  
Yuuri, feeling self-conscious, looked down and felt his heart beat out of his chest. His wrists were tied together with a festive red ribbon and a note was attached to it. He wanted to slap himself. Why had he ever trusted Phichit? His eyes travelled to Viktor, who was still staring at him.  
“V-Viktor?” He stuttered, his face burning.  
Viktor just stood, moving towards Yuuri. His eyes drifted from Yuuri’s own to the ribbon tied around his wrists. As Viktor untied the note, his fingers brushed Yuuri’s, making him shiver.  
“I’m guessing you didn’t tie yourself up, yes?”  
Yuuri’s eyes widened at the implication. “N-no, I would never — I mean — it’s just…”  
Viktor cut him off by laughing into his ear. “Yuuri, you’re adorable.”  
He couldn’t breathe. Maybe he was having an asthma attack. He’d never had asthma before, but he thought it was entirely plausible that he would randomly have an attack every time Viktor was close to him.  
“To Viktor. Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday! P.S….enjoy your helpless, adorable katsudon.” Even Viktor’s cheeks turned pink when he read the card out loud.  
Yuuri thought he would faint. He refused to look at Victor. Curse Phichit! That little….rink rat! He would pay for this if Yuuri got out alive.  
Suddenly, warm hands were cupping his face. Yuuri startled, his head jerking up to see Viktor’s face inches away from Yuuri’s.  
“Viktor….” He had lost the ability to form words now. It seemed like the only thing he could still say was Viktor’s name.  
The Russian skater dipped Yuuri, just like he had at the banquet of the first Grand Prix Yuuri had competed in.  
“W-what are you doing?”  
Viktor smirked. “It’s my birthday. I’m opening my present.”  
And he did.

Maybe Yuuri wouldn’t kill Phichit so much after all.


End file.
